Kyle and Darius stood facing each other in the center of the hall, the tension between them sharpening like a drawn blade. Around them, students whispered in hushed excitement, eager to see the first real spar of the day.
Rowan Calder clasped his hands behind his back, his expression unreadable as he paced a slow circle around them. His blue crystalline gauntlet glowed faintly, an unsettling reminder that he was more than capable of stepping in if needed.
His Ashen Direwolf sat beside him, its glowing amber eyes watching them both with an eerie stillness.
"Before you start," Calder's voice cut through the low murmurs, immediately silencing the crowd. "There are rules. Break them, and you'll wish you hadn't."
Kyle straightened slightly. He hadn't expected Calder to be so strict about a spar, but after hearing his no-nonsense approach to training, it made sense.
"Rule one," Calder began. "This is a combat assessment, not a deathmatch. You will fight until I call it. The moment I say stop, you stop. If you don't, you'll answer to me."
Darius cracked his knuckles but said nothing, his usual smirk still lingering.
"Rule two. No targeting fatal points. I don't care if you're the best damn fighter here—you're all still students. If I see a deliberate attempt to cripple or kill, you'll be thrown out of my class."
Kyle nodded, already expecting that rule. Even so, the way Calder said it carried weight, as if he had seen things far worse than just reckless sparring.
"Rule three," Calder's sharp gaze flickered between them. "No outside interference. That means no one else joins the fight. If your familiar is summoned, it fights under your direct command, not as a separate participant. If it attacks without control, you lose immediately."
Kyle's stomach tightened slightly at that last rule.
Boneclaw.
It hadn't moved since their contract was formed, lingering in the depths of his soul like a dormant shadow. But the idea of it emerging suddenly, uncontrolled, made him uneasy.
Calder didn't give him time to dwell on it.
"Rule four. No whining, no excuses. If you get knocked down, get up. If you lose, learn from it. If you win, don't get arrogant."
Kyle could already see the flicker of amusement in Darius's eyes, as if the rule was directed at him.
Calder stopped pacing and turned to face them fully.
"Final rule, and this is the most important. Fight with intent. If you hold back, you're wasting both your time and mine. If you think you can get by with half-effort, walk out now. Because in here, we don't train losers."
A charged silence filled the hall.
No one moved.
Kyle exhaled slowly. Darius simply grinned.
Calder's gaze swept over both of them one last time before he raised his hand.
"Begin."
The moment the word left his lips, Darius moved.
Lightning crackled at his fingertips, and before Kyle could even shift his stance, Darius was already in front of him.
Fast. Too fast.
Kyle barely had time to react as a fist coated in static electricity slammed toward his chest.
The fight had begun.
Kyle barely managed to pivot to the side, narrowly avoiding Darius's lightning-coated punch. The air crackled where the strike had been, and even without direct contact, Kyle felt the static prickle against his skin.
He's fast.
Kyle barely had a moment to think before Darius twisted mid-motion, using the momentum to launch a spinning kick aimed at Kyle's ribs.
Too fast.
Kyle barely got his arms up in time to block, but the impact still sent him skidding backward across the floor. His muscles tensed from the impact, but he gritted his teeth and stayed on his feet.
Darius landed lightly, rolling his shoulders. "Not bad," he mused. "But you're gonna have to do better than that."
Kyle exhaled. He wasn't surprised. Darius had always been one of the strongest in their year, even before they were officially ranked. His Stormfang Panther gave him an edge in speed and precision, and it showed.
Kyle knew he had power, but power meant nothing if he couldn't land a hit.
Darius didn't wait. He blurred forward again.
This time, Kyle wasn't going to just defend.
As Darius closed the distance, Kyle shifted his stance, his mana pulsing through his limbs as he braced himself. Instead of trying to dodge outright, he stepped into the attack—
And caught Darius's fist with both hands.
The impact rattled through him, but he held firm, fingers digging into Darius's wrist.
For the first time, Darius's expression flickered with surprise.
Kyle smirked.
And then he twisted.
Using the momentum of the catch, Kyle yanked Darius forward, throwing off his balance before slamming a knee into his gut.
Darius grunted, staggering back, but recovered fast.
Kyle pressed forward, aiming a sharp elbow strike, but Darius—
Vanished.
No—he hadn't vanished. He had left behind an afterimage.
Kyle's attack passed through empty air, and before he could react, something slammed into his side.
A feint.
Kyle gasped as he stumbled, a sharp crackle of electricity rushing through his nerves. The blow hadn't just been physical—it had sent a small surge of static into his muscles, making them spasm for half a second.
Not enough to fully paralyze him, but enough to leave an opening.
Darius took it.
A sharp kick swept Kyle's legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground.
The moment Kyle hit the floor, Darius was already moving to pin him down.
Kyle had seconds to act.
Gritting his teeth, he forced his mana into his limbs, ignoring the lingering numbness. Instead of trying to stand, he pushed off the ground with his arms, flipping backward just as Darius's knee slammed down where his chest had been a second ago.
Kyle landed in a crouch, then lunged forward.
This time, he wasn't just reacting—he was attacking.
His fist shot forward—Darius dodged—Kyle twisted **into a kick—**Darius parried—Kyle spun low, aiming a sweep—Darius jumped—
Their movements blurred together.
The students watching were silent, eyes wide as the fight escalated.
Kyle grinned. He had expected Darius to dominate the match, but now, he could tell—
Darius was taking him seriously.
And that meant Kyle had a real chance to win.